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OCTOBER, 1919 




%* Tatler Music Club is 

Growing by Leaps ana Bounds 

1 key are Flocking in by the Hun- 
areas From All Over tne Country 

Join J\.ow ! 

Send, now, one little dollar and you will receive twelve 
issues of this bright, breezy, valuable magazine and with each 
issue a copy of a corking, popular song hit. A year's subscrip- 
tion and twelve great popular songs for one dollar. The songs 
are to be published by Waterson, Berlin and Snyder. The one 
given away last month was "Daddy Long-Legs," and they're 
all just as good. 

JOIN UP, QUICK! This offer won't last much longer. 


For a very brief, limited period we make another astounding 
cffer. Send us five yearly subscriptions, at one dollar each, and 
we will send you every popular song published by the Water- 
son, Berlin and Snyder Company in the next twelve months, 
which means in the neighborhood of one hundred songs. The 
W. B. S. Company are the biggest popular song publishers in 
the world, publishers of, for example, "Hello, Central, Give Me 
No Man's Land," "Mickey," "Baby's Prayer at Twilight," "Oh, 
What a Pal Was Mary," "When the Preacher Makes You 
Mine," etc. 

Get, quickly, five of your friends to give you one dollar 
apiece, send us their names and addresses and they'll be enrolled 
as members of The Tatler Music Club, which will entitle them 
to The Tatler for a year and also the twelve brand new popular 
song hits as they are published each month. 

Published Monthly by the Tatler Publishing Company, 

209 West 48th St., New York City. 


The Rise of "Ivory Jones 


Synopsis of Preceding Chapters: Alvin Jones, nicknamed "Ivory" on 
account of his piano-playing abilities, was a half-starved song writer, with 
nothing published when he secured a job playing and singing in the saloon 
and dance hall of Mike Moriarty in downtown New York near Chatham 
Square. On the night of his first appearance he sang one of his own songs, 
"You're All the World To Me" and it made a tremendous hit, particularly 
with Miss Angela Winthrop who ivas present with her brother and a slum- 
ming party. The next morning Jones was run down by an automobile :on- 
tabling Miss Belts and was removed to Bellevuc. During his stay in the 
hospital he was anxiously sought for by a half-dozen firms of song pub- 
lishers. Upon his release he suddenly appeared in the office of Merwin and 
Betts and sold his now famous song for $5. On the same night he was run- 
ning over the strain of a new song in the back room of Merwin and Betts 
when Dick Davenport, a theatrical producer zvho was rehearsing a new 
musical comedy just across the court, heard him. Davenport rushed oz'er to 
Merwin and Betts and captured the astonished Jones and engaged him to 
write several song numbers for the new piece. 


HpHE song "You're All the World To 
Me" had made an instantaneous hit 
when sung by a music hall favorite un- 
der the auspices of the publishers; Mer- 
v.-in & Betts. 

Although the song had enjoyed a 
tremendous sale, Jones, had received 
nothing but the $5, cash-in-hand paid 
him by Old Man Merwin of Merwin & 
Betts. On the evening Jones was dis- 
covered and kidnapped by Dick Dav- 
enport, proprietor of the new musical 
comedy : "The Cafe Girl," he had in his 

pocket the magnificent sum of 85 cents. 
Davenport had immediately staked him 
to a bit of money and had taken him to 
a piano and chained him there to write 
four new song numbers for the show. 

When Jones had been working on the 
show- for a w : eek, he awoke one morning 
at his boarding house to find a letter 
from Merwin & Betts. urging him to 
come to their office immediately. 

Old Man Merwin stalked up and down 
the office nervously chewing his smoul- 
(Continued on page 2) 



(Continued from page i) 
dering cigar and waiting. The sales of 
the new song had reached such propor- 
tions that the time had come to chain 
Jones down to an iron-clad contract. 

"It's queer about this lad," said Old 
Man Merwin. "He hasn't poked his 
nose into this office but once since we 
bought that song. I'm a little anxious." 

"I don't blame you," replied young 
Mr. Betts calmly. "You have cause to 

"What do you mean?" snapped the 
old man. 

"I mean this," and Mr. Betts flicked 
the ash off his cigarette, "You treated 
him like a dog. He came here with the 
biggest seller we have had in years and 
you handed him five bucks for it. You 
knew it was worth $50,000 when you 
gave him that five. Have you given 
him a cent since? No. Have you tried 
to get him to write another song for a 
fair percentage ? No. That boy is no 
sap. He's wise. He's been up against 
it. He knows you have gyped him and 
he knows as well as I know that the old 
methods of handling song-writers are 
obsolete. That boy is a jewel — the best 
proposition that ever walked into this 
office. I've told you time and time again 
that the old order is passing but you — " 

"I know, I know," interrupted Old 
Man Merwin. "You've repeated that so 
often that I know it by heart. But, 
we've made money by my system of do- 
ing business. Treat 'em the way I treat 
'em and they're glad to take anything. 
Fondle 'em and they want to carry off 
the safe. Now this young snips, 
Jones — " 

"Mr. Jones," announced the office boy, 
poking his head in at the door. 

A new "Ivory" Jones stood before 
them. Mr. Betts rose and grasped his 
hand eagerly. Old Man Merwin seated 
himself behind his desk and scowled. 

Jones was arrayed in a suit of clothes 
that fitted him as though it had been 
made for him. The face that had been 
haggard and had shown deep lines was 
now calm and flushed with health. Jones 

was revealed as a broad-shouldered 
young man in the twenties with an in- 
tellectual countenance. His mouth 
seemed ready to break into a smile and 
his eyes were steel gray and as clear as 
the limpid pool in which Psyche first 
surveyed her charms, and when he sat 
down in a chair before the desk and laid 
a carefully creased Stetson thereupon, 
he smiled blandly upon the ferocious Mr. 
Merwin and revealed a perfect set of 
strong white teeth. 

If Jones had walked into Moriarty's 
old place on the Bowery at that mo- 
ment, nobody would have recognized 
him. From the half-starved and ragged 
denizen of the lower East Side, he had 
been transformed into a polished gen- 
tleman all because there had leaped from 
his capable though dreamy brain, a song 
idea that had netted him exactly $5. 
Davenport had listened to the first song 
Jones had written for the new show and 
had made a liberal advance. 

Merwin looked at Jones steadily and 
Jones returned the gaze unflinchingly. 
Betts looked on with interest and laid 
a few mental odds on Jones. 

"Now, Jones," said Old Man Merwin 
with a patronizing air that was only- 
half concealed, "The time has come for 
us to get down to business." 

"The song is going fairly well, then," 
said Jones quietly. 

"Oh, that song? Yes, that is going 
fairly well. It is not of that song that 
I want to speak with you. That song 
is history." 

"So is the $5," replied Jones, a hu- 
morous twinkle in his eye. 

"Ahem!" said the old man, reddening 
slightly under the mask that he called 
his "business face." 

"I presume you must hlave nearly 
doubled vour money by this time," mused 
Jones. "I don't doubt you have already 
made $10 from that song above all ex- 

The old man shifted nervously in his 
chair. He was being bearded and he 
knew it. He gazed into the inscrutable 

(Continued on page 4) 


The Breezy Side of Broadway 

HPHE Prince of Wales should be welcomed by the dramatic authors who have not 

entertained any royalties since the actors went on strike. 

Caruso has any New York banker beaten a mile when it comes to turning notes 
into cash. 

Broadway laundry women are going to strike while the ironing is hot. 

On upper Broadway near Eighty-sixth street there is a delicatessen shop which 
has sprung into great popularity as a night eating place. Its prices are so high that 
nobody can afford to eat there except song writers. 

One of the newspapers said that a well-known vaudeville actress "appeared in a 
picture hat and high heeled shoes." Capacity business for that act. We predict it. 

Somebody asked Joe Young the other day what he thought of the Mexican 
imbroglio and he said : "I don't know. I never tasted any of it." 

Anybody who buys the kind of beer they sell along Broadway these days, has 
no kick coming. 

The last remaining memory of the old-timers in front of the mahogany is kept 
alive by Charles B. Dillingham, who has called his new Hippodrome show "Happy 
Days." Next season "Here's How" or "Here's Looking At You," or "Here's All 
The Hair Off Your Head." 

A local dramatist is busy changing the old play "Ten Nights In a Bar Room" to 
"Ten Minutes In a Tea Room." 

Broadway is being torn up again and the general impression is that some song 
writer has lost a nickel. 

Jazz music has become so unpopular along the Great White Waste that nobody 
goes to hear it except those who can get tickets. 

The latest style of skirt is like a popular theatrical performance — S. R. O. 

One Broadway song 1 writer is the champion optimist of the world. He has just 
bought some stock in a corkscrew factory. 

Now that the chilly weather is coming on, the flappers along Broadway are 
laying aside their furs and getting out their low-necked gowns. 

During the actors' strike the Tired Business Man gained in health and took on 
weight. There was nothing to do but go home and go to bed every night at 9 o'clock. 

Actors are like automobiles. The cheapest ones make the most noise. 

Getting a job in the chorus is mostly a matter of form. 

Somebody has said that there is no sunshine on Broadway since the country 
went dry. Perhaps not, but there is plenty of moonshine. 

A song writer's uncle blew into town to visit him and the song writer asked him 
to go and look at a cabaret. "No use," replied the Uncle, "I wouldn't know how to 
drive the darn thing if I bought it." 

An old discarded steam boiler and a dozen sledge hammers were taken into the 
stage entrance of the Metropolitan Opera House the other day and the general 
impression is that the management is going to produce German operas again. 

Through a typographical error one of the New York papers referred to a well- 
known musical comedy as a "muscle show," which only goes to prove that many a 
truth is spoken in a typographical error. 



(Continued from page 2) 
countenance before him and began 
again, after drawing from his desk an 
important-looking document. 

"I want you to write some more songs 
for us and I have prepared a three-year 
contract for you to sign. It is very lib- 
eral, I think. It gives you a half-cent on 
every copy of the songs sold. It gives us 
six months to accept or reject any song 
that you write. After six months, you 
are permitted to show the song to some 
other publisher. We are given the right 
to change the lyric or the air in a man- 
ner to make the song more salable. We 
are given the exclusive right to your 
services in the writing of music and 
lyrics. Is that perfectly plain? If it is, 
you will sign on the dotted line." 

Merwin leaned back and puffed con- 
fidently at his cigar, after -pushing the 
contract over to Jones and handing him 
a pen. 

Jones quietly accepted the contract 
and the pen, read the contract over care- 

"This contract seems to be all 
straight," he said, "and probably it is as 
good a contract as I could get elsewhere 
these days. It doesn't offer the author 
much encouragement, but I suppose it is 
the usual form." 

"Yes," said Old Man Merwin, bright- 
ening perceptibly. 

"The contract is O. K.," repeated 

"Yes," said Merwin. 

"But I am not going to sign it," said 
Jones tersely, laying the instrument down 
on the desk and carefully placing the 
pen on the inkstand. 

"You're not going to sign it?" thun- 
dered Merwin. "You're not going to 
sign a contract with the best house in 

this town, why " and the old man's 

face turned livid with rage. 

He was about to launch into a torrent 
of abuse when Jones raised his hand and 
halted him. 

"It isn't so much the contract," said he, 
"although it is a rotten contract. In fact, 
it isn't the contract that stands between 
vou and me. It isn't the contract at all." 

"What is it, then?" 

"It is that measly $5 that you paid me 
for a fifty thousand dollar song that 
stands between us and will stand be- 
tween us as long as we live. You took 
advantage of me because I needed the 
money and to all intents and purposes 
you stole that song from me." 

The old man writhed in his chair and 
strove to speak through lips that were 
growing purple with rage. 

"Mr. Merwin," continued Jones, quiet- 
ly, "The day is coming when the domi- 
neering blacklegs will be driven out of 
the song publishing business. Some day 
this business is going to be honest. It is 
going to turn straight and you are going 
to turn straight with it." 

"Never," thundered Merwin, before 
he thought. "That is to say," he con- 
tinued, "It is straight now. I took a 
chance on that song." 

"A five-dollar chance," laughed Jones. 
"No, Mr. Merwin, you and I are at the 
parting of the ways. I think I must be 
going. Good day, gentlemen. Mr. Betts, 
I trust I may see you again." 

Jones picked up his hat and gloves, 
walked quietly to the door and disap- 

Mr. Betts slowly removed a cigarette 
from his gold case, lighted the weed, 
crossed his knees, and blew a tremendous 
cloud of smoke to the ceiling. "I told 
you " he began. 

"Shut up!" roared Merwin. "You 
make me sick." » 

* * * 

A large audience of first-nighters gath- 
ered at a well-known theatre near Thir- 
ty-eighth street and Broadway to wit- 
ness the first performance of Dick Dav- 
enport's newest musical comedy, "The 
Cafe Girl." 

All the night before the company had 
rehearsed and Jones had hovered around 
as his songs were sung by various mem- 
bers of the cast. It had been a terrible 
night. The musicians drooped in their 
chairs until their music lost all its fresh- 
ness and vigor. Dancers danced until 
they were ready to drop. Principals 
sang until they could sing no more, and 
(Continued on page 6) 


Taking tke Gay Out of tke^Gay^VkiteWay 


TF old Pete Stuyvesant, once a highly 
respected citizen and a more or less 
prominent politician of New York, had 
stumped his way up the main street of 
the town any day last month he would 
have said, "Well, what the Holland has 
happened to this burg, anyway? There 
used to be something doing when I lived 
here, a little life' and pep, but now look 
at the darned place ! Sleepy Hollow is 
a seething mass of excitement and ac- 
tivity compared with here. A fine place 
to sleep. I'll say so." 

Whereupon old Pete would have 
crept away, quietly, to reflect on the 
good old days when men had "certain 
unalienable rights, and that among 
these were life, liquor and the pursuit 
of happiness." 

Surely New York was dead, and it 
didn't look natural. Prohibition and the 
actors' strike had wrought such a 
change in it that its closest friends 
could scarcely recognize it. Some of 
the saloons were still selling a cheap 
imitation of wood alcohol at thirty-five 
cents a drink but to all intents and pur- 
poses the flowing bowl was empty and 
could be put in the front hall for leaky 

Cabarets were, as a consequence, 
listless, lifeless affairs and many of 
them closed. New York's night life was 
gradually passing away. Then along 
came the actors' strike and rigor mortis 
set in for fair. The Great White Way 
was there but the lights led to nowhere. 
It was but a shadow of its former self. 

People sort of got the habit of stay- 
ing at home. There was no where to 
go. There was no place BUT home. 
Husbands and wives began to get 
acquainted with each other. When a 
woman finished her shopping she had to 
go home. It was the only place left 
open. When hubby closed down his 
desk, or took off his overalls, as the 
case might be, he drifted home, quite 
naturally, there being no diverting in- 
fluence. They met. 

"O, hello, is it you?" 

'Yes, is it you ?" 

"Well, how've you been?" etc., etc. 

They, perforce, spent the evening at 
home. At first it was somewhat em- 
barrasing, of course. There they were, 
two comparative strangers, alone in the 
same apartment, and about to spend the 
night together. The wife noted her 
wedding ring and that seemed to make 
it all right. The husband glanced over 
his check book and figured it was com- 
ing to him. And, as the evening sha- 
dows fell, all was well. 

The next night they met again. After 
dinner the husband said, "Jevver play 
cribbage?" and they dug up a dusty 
cribbage board and a pack of cards, 
split a bottle of ginger ale and called it 
a wild night. Verily, it began to look 
as though the hearth was about to 
come into its own again. Husbands 
and wives were getting quite chummy, 
the tired business man was getting a 
chance to get some sleep, and courting 
went on apace, because you can make 
love faster in the parlor than in the 

As far as the actors' strike was con- 
cerned, nobody seemed to care a rap 
except the actors, managers and agen- 
cies. The public began to wake up to 
the fact that they could get along with- 
out the theatre very nicely. From the 
swain who has to choke his salary to 
death to get the price of a pair in the 
balcony to the man of means and fam- 
ily who has to cough up anywhere from 
twenty-five to a hundred dollars a 
month for tickets came sighs of relief. 
A man said to me one day, "It used to 
cost me four hundred dollars a month 
for theatre tickets and attendant ex- 
penses for my family and their friends. 
Now I'm putting that money in the 
bank." He was awfully upset over the 
strike. He was afraid they'd call it off. 
The public emitted no audible wail over 
the thing. Most of them said, "I sym- 
(Continued on page 10) 



(Continued from page 4) 

the poor chorus was dragged through 
number after number, over and over 
again under the whip of the most active 
and energetic producer in New York. 

Jones, after two hours sleep at his 
boarding house, could sleep no more and 
he rose and walked the streets until it 
was time for the theatre to open in the 
evening. The airs of his songs kept 
running through his head and he awoke 
to the fact that he was suffering an ag- 
gravated sort of stage-fright although, 
at that time, he was walking in Central 
Park, miles away from the stage. 

True, it was not his show. In fact, if 
the piece failed, he could not be blamed, 
for he had written very little of it, but 
through his veins flowed that old spirit 
so well known to the members of the 
profession: "The show — the show — the 
show must go." 

All that day he touched nothing to eat. 
At 8.15 he stood in the back of the house, 
garbed in an evening suit which had 
been furnished by Davenport. After he 
had waited what seemed like an eter- 
nity, the orchestra leader raised his baton 
for the first note of the overture. 

Jones reeled and thought he was going 
to faint, but he didn't. He clung to the 
railing which ran along behind the last 
row of seats. 

The orchestra played on and the reg- 
ular score of the piece seemed to rouse 
little interest. Then it swung into the 
first of Jones's songs : "Oh, Why Won't 
You Be a Good Little Girl?" the tink- 
ling, catchy music of which set feet in 
the audience to tapping. People leaned 
toward one another and whispered and 
there was an excited little buzzing in the 
audience, as there always is when an au- 
dience is pleased. 

There was some more of the regular 
score and then the music of Jones's sec- 
ond song: "Take Me Home With You." 
There was more quiet tapping of feet in 
the audience and buzzing and a large 
gentleman sitting in front of Jones began 
tapping on the arm of his seat with his 
fingers and swaying his head slightly 

from side to side as people do when 
music gets them. 

The first act was bad. Davenport 
stood in the wings with a pencil mur- 
muring "That's out" and "That's out" as 
one situation after another fell flat. -He 
was discouraged. Things looked about 
as bad as they could look when Jimmy 
Millard, the lead, began singing Jones's 
song: "Oh, Why Won't You Be a Good 
Little Girl?" 

It was the first bright spot in the 
evening. There were three other such 
spots and they came when Jones's songs 
were sung. 

It was over at last and the audience 
filed out. Jones, weak and undetermined 
whether to go back and see Davenport 
or beat it to his hotel, leaned against the 
railing where he had stood all evening. 
As he stood there, he failed to see a 
pretty young woman in an evening gown 
who approached him. 

It was Angela Winthrop and when she 
touched Jones on the arm he awoke with 
a start and rubbed his eyes. 

"You here ?" he stammered. 

"Why, of course. I have been waiting 
for days on end for this performance. I 
saw your name in the advertisements. 
Oh, it was splendid — I mean they were 
splendid — your songs, you know." 

Jones gulped and stammered but no 
words would come. Upon the slightest 
provocation he could have wept. He 
took her hand and pressed it and only 
faintly heard her say: "Run out and see 
us some afternoon, do, Mr. Jones. We 
shall be so happy to see the famous 

"Thanks, I will," returned Jones, and 
she hastened away to catch her brother. 

A few moments later Jones came out 
of the apparent state of coma and felt 
something in his hand. He looked down 
at it and realized that it was a rosebud, 
a beautiful red bud which somebody had 
given him. 

"Now, I wonder who could have done 
that," he murmured foolishly. 

Then he took it in both hands and, 
looking around carefully, he pressed it 
to his lips. 

(To be continued) 


Interesting Bits About Pictures 
Worth Seeing 

IT does seem as though every picture 
that Mary Pick ford does is better 
than the one previous. If she keeps on 
like that she'll be a pretty famous movie 
some of 
these days. 
In fact, 
she's pretty 
well known 
now. At 
any rate 
she is fast 
forging to 
t h e front. 
We saw 
her in 
L o D g - 
Legs" and 
she wasn't 
bad at all. 
We e n - 
joyed that 
very much, 
t h e song, 

Long-Legs" that that scug-writin' feller 
Harry Ruby wrote about the picture. 

The song was sung w : herever the pic- 
ture was shown and was a corker. We'll 
say that this here, now, Ruby chap cer- 
tainly knows how to arrange notes on 
both clefts in a most artistic manner. 
Another fellow tried to imitate Ruby 
and he wrote a song about "Daddy Long- 
Legs" but it was a joke. It made people 
laugh when they compared it to Ruby's 
song and those who bought it said after- 
wards that they were stung, same's you 
always are when you buy imitations. 

But to get back to our Mary. She 
hasn't any imitators. Some tried to 
imitate her long ago but they had to 
give it up. She's too good. And if you 
want to see her at her best don't fail to 

sec "The Hoodlum." As Amy Burke, 
in this wonderful picture, she becomes a 
professoress in crap-shooting, the con- 
ductor of a hurdy-gurdy, a chamber- 
maid for 
bums, and 
an enemy 
to soap and 
You'll love 
Mary in 
this pic- 
ture. It's a 


of a 



Could yon, by MtretehlnK your Imagination to the 
breaking point, believe that the»te nleturex are of the 
Maine Klrlf Well, they are. One In a pielure of M«rv 
I'iekford an herNelf. Of eiturte. you reeoggnlze that. 
The other In a pleture of MIkm lMekford in "The Hood- 
lum," and NhoWK Mnry'n extreme ability In the art of 

poor father 
more than 
her rich 
f at her, and 
in the lov- 
ing discov- 
ered a hero 
whose Ber- 
t i 1 1 i o n 
r.i ea sure- 
ments fitted 
her ideal 
of a husband. 

It's a rattling picture which takes the 
little heroine from the luxury of a man- 
sion to the squalor of a tenement through 
exciting vicissitudes to a happy ending. 
A song entitled "The Hoodlum," author- 
ized by Miss Pick ford, has been written 
around the picture and is printed in part 
in this issue. 

"The Brat" is another picture that is 
making a tremendous hit with all movie 
lovers. It was written from Maude 
Fulton's play of the same name, which 
bad such a big run in New York and 
other large cities. The great and tal- 
ented Madame Xazimova is starred in 
this picture. We'll say that if you don't 
{Continued on page 16) 



Tke Brat' 

The play wan 
R-ood, ihe picture 
Im Kood, and now 

cxiiii's the Konjc— 

and n's -r.:if! 

One of the wea- 

■oh'm nigrnnl Mona* 


You'rejutit a lit -tie brut who wins all tvarte, I know that ynuv<* won mine). 

— Tberes some-thing in your smile— That *nakesyour love worthwhile, — The mes-sage of a 

t '^ll J i J l^|i J i J l^l^ jJ 


J ■ j' I] 1 j' l j * j ' Ij'iilj^ 

^ r r r J I- 1 -' l r ** ij J J T J ■> J T - j ^^ 

hap-pi-ness di - vine.. 

You go your laugh-ing way from day to day. 

j J if i r J i ( LU ' i ' J i i r i r r r ^ 

Lif» ll a son^ that's er - er new; 

i So kind and sweet to cv-'ry-oneyou 

(Continued from page 5) 
pathize with the actors," and let it go 
at that. 

Both actors and managers, however, 
were suffering severely from the 
strike, and it was inevitable that it would 
be settled, must be settled, before it had 
gone long. Many of the strikers were 
in dire straits, and the managers could 
see that if the strike continued well into 
the winter, as many short-sighted persons 
claimed it would, many people would 
have actually become weaned away 
from the high priced theatres by the 
lower priced vaudeville and moving 
picture theatres, besides losing thou- 
sands of dollars in the meantime. The 
actors and the producer: were the only 
ones who were being hurt and they 
were being hurt bad, so, of course they 
rot together and stopped it. The actors 
got more than they had demanded, the 
managers retained the "open shop," so 

everybody was happy. The theatres 
opened again and New York began to 

The one thing that finally brought the 
strike to an end was the order of the 
labor leaders to close all the Shubert 
houses throughout the country. The 
Shuberts were credited with being the 
only managers holding out, and this 
sweeping order brought them into line. 

Both sides to the controversy made 
heated remarks during the fight that 
were hard to swallow, but they were 
swallowed, peace was declared and the 
hatchet was buried. 

Which reminds us of a story. A 
friend of Willie Collier said to him one 

"I saw you talking with Lee Shubert 
on the street the other day. Did you 
bury the hatchet?" 

To which Collier replied, "I tried to 
but Lee dodged." 


Fourteen Points 

i — A League of Nathans has been formed at Arverne, L. I. 

j — The Presidential Tour is being made to convince skeptics that the Wilsons are 
back in America. 

3 — The composer of "BLUEBIRD" on being served with divorce papers offered 
to wager that "Ain't He the Wise Old Owl" was written about a bachelor. 

4 — Re-incarnation theorists assert that the James boys have returned in the guise 
of New York landlords. 

5 — To prisoners musically inclined Sing Sing is unpopular because of the long 
rests between bars. 

6 — Prohibition has not affected the letter carrier. He can still wet his whistle. 

7 — Folks unable to meet railroad rate increases should parcel post themselves to 
their destinations. 

8 — A rip in a girl's stocking puts a wrinkle in a man's brow. 

9 — Hebrew actors resent the imputation of managers that they are "hams." 
io — A janitor is the highest paid individual in the world — he gets his rent free. 

ii — Grant Clark's interpretation of the French battlefield Chemin des Dames is 
"Shimmie the dames." 

12 — There is many a flat head under a 6]/i hat. 

13 — Some doctors are so accurate in their diagnosis that whatever they treat a 
man for he generally dies from. 

14 — Here's hoping Pershing's return will throw a scare into the profiteers. Wel- 
come back "Black T ack." 


'T*HE actors' strike which was spread- Writers like Joe Young, Sam Lewis, 
ing rapidly over the country, and Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, F.dgar Les- 
which had closed all theatres in New lie, Bert Grant and others were work- 
York, Boston, Chicago, Washington ing overtime turning out delectable 
and other large cities served to empha- hits. 

size one important fact and that is that The increase in the demand for popu- 

there is one form of amusement that lar songs while the theatres were closed, 

nothing can stop and that is the popular was quite natural, for you can always 

song. get the gang together around some of 

During the strike the demand for these song writers' melodies and have 

songs increased as the strike spread a good time. {Continued on next page) 



"It Took Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen Years' 

(To Make A Girl Like You) 


One of the great- 
est lore song* 
ever written. It 
took 1010 years to 
make tin- girl but 
the xong iv;is a 
hit overnight. 

(Continued from 
Take a program consisting, for in- 
stance, of 
"Oh, What A Pal Was Mary," 
"Take Me To That Land of Jazz," 
"When the Preacher Makes You 
"Oo La La, Wee Wee," 
"I Ain't Had No Lovin' Since You 
Went Away," 
"Daddv Long-Legs." 
"If You Want To Make A Hit With 
the Ladies." 

These are all wonderful songs, and 
you have an entertainment for a trifling 
sum that will spread out over a pleas- 
ant evening. Plays, cabarets and such 
may come and go but, like the famous 
book, the l'il old popular song goes on 
forever. Publishers are keen to the 

preceding page) 

situation and are placing a larger and 
better output than ever on the market. 

For instance, a member of the firm 
of Waterson, Berlin and Snyder told us 
the other day that in the next twelve 
months they were going to issue over 
one hundred first class corking hits ! 

And, by the way, if you want to make 
sure of getting your money's worth 
when you buy a song, make sure it has 
the name of Waterson, Berlin and 
Snyder on it. It's a guarantee of per- 
fection. That's just a little tip, dear 

So when you stop and think that for 
the price you pay for one orchestra 
seat you can get twenty (20) copies of 
rattling popular songs, all the joy hasn^ 
been extracted from life, has it? 



About Plays and Players You Know 


TTWENTY-ONE bidders were present 
when the late .Anna Held's $100,000 
necklace was offered at public auction. 
These gems, which "were adorned by 
her beautiful neck," were finally bought 
by a jeweler for $52,000. Miss Held's 
daughter, Liane Carrera, attended the 
sale and made several purchases. 

This final chapter in the biography 
of the famous actress calls to mind her 
appearance in our midst years ago. Prob- 
ably no performer ever came here so 
thoroughly press-agcnted. It was she 
who originated the milk bath. Each day, 
according to the confidential advices of 
her press agent, who in turn had been 
given an inside and very private tip, 
and, of course, not for publication. Miss 
Held enjoyed a lacteal dip. Of course, 
that was before milk cost eighteen 
cents a quart. Since then the milk bath 
has been more or less generally adopted, 
according to press agents, until the milk 
trust drove 'em to water again. 

Another clever bit of publicity she 
received was when she kissed a man to 
a standstill. The editor of the Hearst 
Sunday newspapers was curious to 
know how many kisses a person could 
indulge in consecutively before the 
facial muscles would fail to work. Miss 
Held consented to be one of the parties 
to the experiment. Her opponent or 
partner, as the case may be, has since 
dropped into oblivion and his name 
escapes us. Anyway, it wasn't Flo 
Ziegfeld. His turn came later. 

And so, in the interest of science, the 
test was made. History, as recorded in 
the files of the Sunday American, states 
that 237 separate, distinct, and audible 
kisses were duly registered by the par- 
ties, one upon the other. Anna finally 
quit, but the guy was game. The time 
consumed during the kisses was a little 
over fifteen minutes or about half as 
long as one soul kiss. 

Answer to W. D. S. — Oh, yes, Lillian 
Russell is still living. 

Already a play has been written with 
the actors' strike as its theme. It is 
called, "The Actor," and will be tried 
out in Lynn, Mass., wherever that is. 

Rock and White (William and 
Frances, respectively), well-known 
headliners on the Keith circuit, have dis- 
solved partnership. Miss White will 
appear as a single, and Rock will do 
some directing of musical comedies, 
acting, and making himself generally 
useful about the theatre. 

San Francisco, Cal., Aug. 31. — Marj- 
orie Taylor and Jane McGcc, two mem- 
bers of "Chin Chin," were arrested here 
this week charged with stopping traffic 
when they paraded through the crowded 
shopping districts with bare legs. 

Must have had Japan-knees, and 
they're not popular in San Francisco. 

May Irwin, the well-known comedy 
actress, doesn't like canoes. She's a 
little heavier than she was once, and 
knows that if she ever got into a nervous 
wiggly canoe it would go over. She 
says, "If you ever see me in a canoe, 
you'll have to look quick." 

Enrico Caruso, the greatest tenor 
who ever visited the Central Park Zoo, 
says that an interesting event is being 
awaited at his home. Mrs. Caruso is 
expected to be present. 

"Oh, What a Pal Was Mary" will 
probably outsell any high-priced hit that 
will be published this coming season. 
At least it is hard to conceive any song 
in the same season that will equal it. 
Songs like "Mary" only come along 
once a year. It has picked up the fastest 
of any song ever written and is selling 
wild! It will easily outsell "Chasing 
Rainbows," "Blozving Bubbles" and hits 
of that sice. The music is by Pete Wcnd- 
ling, and the lyric by Bert Kalmar and 
Edgar Leslie. 



""I Am t Had No Lovm Since You AiVent Away" 


I aint had no lov - In'— since yon vent a wayj_ 

If you "want a 
song- around the ( 
house that you { 
and everybody 
else -will go crazy 
about, let us rec- 
ommend this one. 
AH roads lead to 
where they sell 
this song. 




■ Mrrt- 1 i H JJ E^ H^ri - J l ff 

p jf \j i j r i. i 'T^^ 




part- ed 
lone- some 

iVe been 
yon can 

sad, And 1 the 
bet, 'Cause the 



you gave me 
to love you 

is the 
Is the 


,, I 

-** — r — 

■ m\jf • 



j — nrj 

i „ i ' 



V-^!- 3* ft* 



TOURING the four weeks that racing 
was transferred from the environs 
of New York City to Saratoga, popular 
song publishers had a chance to see and 
get acquainted once more with their 
song writers. You can't keep a song 
writer away from the track. Nobody 
knows why, but it's true. The ponies 
get 'em all — every day. But when the 
meet was at Saratoga most of them 
showed up at the office again, and 
waited patiently for the opening of 
Belmont. That meet is on now and the 
song writers are again away every day, 
dropping in to see numerous intimate 
sick friends, having conferences with 
their lawyers, burying all sorts of rela- 
tives, and out buying tombstones for 

same. In fact more tombstones have 
been bought by song writers this year 
than in any previous season. Some of 
them might, incidentally, be erected to 
the memory of some of the "dead ones" 
picked at the track. 

Be that as it may, every conceivable 
excuse for absence from business, and 
for loans following a bad day at the 
track has been worn threadbare. If a 
new one happens to be devised it is 
quickly worked to death. Any inventive 
genius with a few new and reasonably 
plausible excuses should drop around 
Times Square; he could pick up quite a 
bit of change. But they'll have to be 


"Tke Miracle Man' 

The play, the pic- 
ture and the .sons 
have gone hand 
in hand to un- 
heard of success. 
This song is one 
of the season's 
unqualified hits. 
;.. T .., You can't over- 
look it when you 
order your fall 

KALMARS KRACKS-(Wise and Otnerwise) 

TX/HILE the shows were closed the tired business man had a chance to rest up. 

Now, even the homeliest chorus girl can say that she once was a "striking" 

Some men dive into the Sea of Matrimony and bring up a pearl. Others strike 
a floating torpedo. 

As the price of clothes keeps going up, the women keep wearing less. Some 
men are mean enough to hope that the price will keep going up. 

Prohibition has staggered a great many men. That is the only logical reason I 
can find for all the men I see staggering nightly. 

If the future Presidents follow the example set by our present President it 
would be nice to have a portable White House. 

It is rumored that shoes are going to cost at least twenty-five dollars a pair 
We should be able to get a nice pair of shoe-laces for about eight dollars. 



"The Hoodlum 


The authors who 
wrote "D add; 
Long; Legs" for 
the Picfcford pic- 
ture wrote this 
corking, oaptivat- 
ins song which is 
every hit as good 
as the other, and 
you know how 
good that was. 
Both songs are 
almost as pretty 
as Mary. 

(Continued from page 7) 
see this picture you'll let a mighty pleas- 
ant evening slip through your fingers. 
In this picture Nazimova is seen for the 
first time in her career as an American 
girl. Her great fame hitherto has been 
derived from her impersonation of for- 
eign types. 

A corking song has been written 
around this picture also ; the one you will 
hear played or sung when you see the 
picture, and one of the best songs of 
the year. 

"The Miracle Man" is one of the most 
tremendous hits shown in New York in 
years. It was shown at the Cohan The- 
atre for a long run and then went into 
the Rivoli, a short distance away, where 
nearly 10,000 people a day saw the 
picture. At the time this is written the 
picture is still running. People who 

never saw a moving picture are flocking 
to see this one. 

You probably have already heard the 
song "The Miracle Man," which will 
soon be played and sung all over the 


Speculation is rife along Broadway 
as to whom "Ivory" Jones, the hero of 
our popular serial story, is supposed to 
be. As a matter of fact it is the true 
story of a real flesh and blood song 
writer, whose hits have set the popular 
song world on its head. The various 
careers of song writers are all so nearly 
identical that they've each got the idea, 
that the story is his particular biogra- 

The life of a song writer is an inter- 
esting one, and a recounting of his 
career reads like fiction. Hence, "Ivory" 
Jones is making a great hit. 

September Releases for Biggest Song Hits 


Music of the Wedding- Chimes. 

The Woman in Room 13. 

Sweet Patootie Time. 

When the Preacher Makes Tou Mine. 

Take Your Girlie to the Movies. 
Take Me to the Land of Jazz. 

Take Tour Girlie to the Movies. 
The Music of the Wedding Chimes. 


Don't Cry Frenchy, Don't Cry. 


Take Your Girlie to the Movies. 

Daddy Long-Legs. 
And He'd Say Oo La La! Wee-Wee! 

Down By the Meadow Brook. 

Daddy Long-Legs. 
And He'd Say Oo La La! Wee-Wee! 

Take Your Girlie to the Movies. 
When the Bees Make Honey Down in 

Sunny Alabam*. 
I Always Think I'm Up in Heaven 

(When I'm Down in Dixie Land). 
My Barney Lies Over the Ocean. 
Jazz Baby. 
That Tumble Down Shack in Athlone. 

Daddy Long-Legs. 
Oh What a Pal Was Mary. 
When the Preacher Makes You Mine. 

Oh What a Pal Was Mary. 

Oh What a Pal Was Mary. 
Take Me to the Land of Jazz. 
And He'd Say Oo La La! Wee-Wee! 


209 West 48th Street, New York. 
Gentlemen: — ■ 

Enclosed find a dollar postal order for 
one year's subscription to The Tatler, 
and 12 songs, as mentioned in your re- 
cent letter. 

I think The Tatler is a few shines 
brighter than the sun, and as breezy as 
a gentle gale that precedes an autumnal 
equinoctial storm. 

I hope The Tatler may continue to 
chatter and delight us for many moons. 
Yours sincerely, 

1930 North Crosbey St., 

Philadelphia, Pa. 

* * * 

Tatler Publishing Company, 

New York. 
Gentlemen: — ■ 

Please send me The Tatler for one 
-whole year. I dont like it — I love it! 
Enclosed find check for one dollar for 
the same. Also, please don't forget that 
free sheet music every month. 
Yours truly, 


Jackson, Minn. 

* * * 

The Tatler Publishing Company, 

New York City. 
Dear Sirs: — 

Here is that one little dollar. I'm al- 
most tickled to death to be enrolled in 
your music club. To get The Tatler for 

a whole year is worth a dollar — and a 
first-class popular song, too, is a bargain 
such as I have never heard of before. 

Do you want a few more club mem- 
bers? I may be able to get some more 
around here if you do. 


Deep River, Wash. 

* * * 

The Tatler Publishing Company, 

New York. 
Sirs: — 

Just received my copy of The Tatler 
with your letter wondering if I liked it. 
I'll say that it is the biggest little maga- 
zine I've ever taken. I shall show my 
copy to my friends. 

Wishing you all kinds of the success 
The Tatler should have, 
I remain 

The Tatler's Friend, 


Pecatonica, 111. 

* * * 

Tatler Publishing Company, 

New York City. 
Dear Sirs: — ■ 

Enclosed you will find one dollar for 

one year's subscription to The Tatler. It 

is the best little magazine I have so far 

read. I am very much pleased with it. 

Yours respectfully, 

Miss M. DeFISH, 

820 Star Ave.. 
Toledo, Ohio. 

The McConnell Printing Co., 226-242 William St., New York 

This is Harvest Time and 
Here is the Prize Crop ! 

No such array of song beauties ever before plucked 
from the Song Writers' Flowering Garden of Genius. 

Each one a joy and delight. 

Each one a sensation! Get them all! 

"Oh, What a Pal Was Mary." 

"It Took 1919 Years to Make a Girl Like You." 

"I Ain't Had No Lovin' Since You Went Away." 

"Along the Trail where the Blue Grass Grows." 

"The Brat." 

"Daddy Long-Legs." 

"The Hoodlum." 

"Desert Gold." 

"The Miracle Man." 

"Take Me to That Land of Jazz." 

"Music of the Wedding Chimes." 

"Jazz Baby." 

"When the Bees Make Honey Down in Sunny Alabam'." 

"I'll Be Happy When the Preacher Makes You Mine." 

"And He'd Say Oo La La! Wee-Wee!" 

"If You Want to Make a Hit With the Ladies." 

For sale by all music dealers, or sent direct on receipt 
of 15 cents (each) in stamps. 


Strand Theatre BIdg. Broadway and 47th St., New York